The Gift Room Page 10

  “Good morning, Alexander. Very nice to see you again.”

  “Good morning,” replied Alexander as he stood, shook hands and then resumed his seat. Mr Clarkson pulled a chair out from the table opposite Alexander and sat down. He pulled the file across to himself and opened it. Alexander could see that the top page was still the will that he had discussed the previous day. Mr Clarkson noticed him looking at it.

  “I have dictated an attendance note covering our meeting, but a hard copy has yet to reach the file,” he explained. “My partners despair of me with some of my rather old fashioned approaches, and I am lucky to have retained a personal secretary in these changing times, but I like my paper files to be complete and don’t like to rely upon some tablet when I sit in meetings. Still, I will soon be completely retired and then they can adopt whatever new-fangled technology they want!” He smiled. “How can I help?”

  “Well, I think I would like to explain to you what I have been doing over the last 24 hours.” Alexander reached into his jacket pocket and removed the letter that he had opened at his parents’ house. He passed it across the table. “Please read it, and in fact when you have done so I am happy for you to then retain it with my parents’ will in your file.”

  Mr Clarkson took the letter from Alexander’s outstretched hand and read it through.

  Dear Alexander,

  I hope you are reading this letter in our house as we have asked.

  Your mother and I are not ones given to theatricals; however, we have decided that this would be the best way for you to understand our wishes concerning our wills and also to perhaps see how much we have loved you always. I realise that you will probably find this hard to believe, but we have missed you in our lives for a very long time and have missed seeing your family grow and being part of their lives as grandparents. We assume, as you have been married for such a long time to Julia, that you are personally happy, and that brings us some comfort in our twilight years.

  We have decided to leave you everything. With our investments over the years you will find that we are not poor, but somehow I doubt that you will need for anything much. I am guessing from what little we know of your life that you are very successful, and we are both very proud of that. The wonders of the internet mean that, knowing your address, we know you live in a very nice home and appreciate the position you hold in the organisation due to their website.

  Your mother and I have never forgotten your birthday, Christmas, and also those of your three children. In fact we even appreciated and recognised when you married Julia. The reason for this letter to be read now is that we would like you to go upstairs, if you have not already done so, and enter the spare bedroom on the right on the landing. Alexander, please realise we have never stopped loving you. Perhaps you just never realised. The room is a testament to our feelings.

  Thus, leaving you everything has seemed the most natural thing in the world.

  Regards,

  Dad

  “Well…” Mr Clarkson paused. “I have to say, I assumed your parents were comfortable financially so I don’t doubt they had some investments. As to the spare bedroom, I don’t know what to say other than to ask you what you found…although of course if the issue is private, I must apologise for my prying question.” Mr Clarkson felt a little embarrassed at being so forward with his questioning.

  “Well, let me first tell you about their investments. It appears my parents have been investing in the stock market for years. I have jotted down details of their portfolio, as far as I can understand it from the files in their study, and they are - or should I say were - worth a considerable amount of money.” Alexander pushed the piece of paper across the desk with his list from the previous day.

  “I see,” said Mr Clarkson, as his eyes scanned down the schedule that had been created. “Well, of course we will have to address the issue of inheritance tax as the Treasury will want… how can I put this tactfully…”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t do tact very often as you know so it will be impossible to offend me!” said Alexander, helping him out.

  “Well then, shall we say their ‘pound of flesh’? And with their house in Godfrey St John, which we will need to have valued, there will be a considerable sum of money involved.”

  “Can you assist with the whole inheritance tax stuff and the valuation for the house as well?” Alexander asked.

  “Yes of course, I have a number of chartered surveyors I can call upon for such a valuation,” Mr Clarkson replied.

  “Thank you, that will be helpful, and I assumed that would be the case so I have brought back the key for you.” Alexander pushed the key and label back across the desk.

  “I shall contact a couple of valuers this afternoon, obtain fee proposals and timescale indications from them, and then email you, if that would be acceptable?”

  “That’s great, thanks. I suppose now I should tell you what I found in the spare room? In fact I have called it the Gift Room.”

  Alexander spoke without emotion, as if he were about to relay a story in third person, one in which he had no direct involvement. “Well, I went upstairs as the letter had instructed… well, as it had ‘asked’ I suppose, and found in the spare room piles upon piles of presents. They were all wrapped up with Christmas or birthday paper. Some were for me, some for my children. There was even a wedding present wrapped up for Julia and I. The first present was for my 21st birthday, which in fact is this watch.” Alexander pulled up the left sleeve of his suit jacket and extended his arm towards Mr Clarkson, who looked at the Omega on his wrist.

  “A very nice watch,” he commented.

  “When I looked carefully at all the presents it became apparent,” Alexander continued, “that every year, for my birthday, my children’s birthdays, my wife’s birthday, and Christmases, they have bought us all gifts but never sent them. They were all carefully wrapped and labelled and even had the dates on the labels. So I have no doubt, say, that the gifts for the children contained various toys for when they were little.”

  “How many did you unwrap? I guess it is not surprising you have stayed down in Devon overnight. I believe the local pub in that village is very good.” Mr Clarkson was clearly leaping to the same conclusions that Alexander’s wife had.

  “Actually I only unwrapped a few. And I stayed overnight in the house. I ended up having a rather nice evening with the local vicar.”

  “Brian,” replied Mr Clarkson.

  “Yes, how on earth do you…” But Alexander’s question was cut off with a polite lifting of Mr Clarkson’s hand.

  “Please, don’t continue,” he smiled. “Client confidentiality and all that. Let us just say that your parents’ were not the only long-standing clients I have in that village… I have always found Brian to be a charming man.” Mr Clarkson lowered his hand and placed both lightly on the still-open file on the table in front of him.

  “Well, then, as I was saying, I met Brian and we chatted over a couple of glasses of red wine from my father’s stash - although I suppose it would be mine now,” Alexander smiled. “He helped me to see how my parents’ behaviour should be viewed. They clearly loved me, but perhaps they could not openly express it. So in light of that love it is not surprising that they left me all their worldly wealth. I guess I had to see the room to understand why they had reached the decision they had in their wills.” Alexander paused and reached down for his coffee cup but, as he raised it, he noticed that it was already empty.

  “Let me get another one of those organised for you,” said Mr Clarkson, as he raised himself from his chair, leant across the table and took the cup and saucer away.

  A few minutes later he reappeared followed by the receptionist, for whom he held open the door, as she was carrying a large tray with two fresh coffees and a plate of biscuits. The lady placed the tray down and put the plate in the middle of the table and then a coffee cup in front of Alexander and the other by the open file.

  “I guess you have not had any bre
akfast,” Mr Clarkson said, as he pushed the biscuits towards Alexander across the table and then took a sip of his own coffee.

  “Thank you,” said Alexander, as he reached for a biscuit and then took a sip from his coffee cup.

  “Well, in effect, I spent the evening talking matters through with Brian. He made me think, to be honest. My parents clearly thought about me all this time. Although they could not, for whatever reason, come to demonstrate it openly. They showed their love by buying gifts and hoarding them in their spare bedroom. At least I realise that they had clearly not forgotten about me and my family and I suppose that goes to prove why they thought it was perfectly natural for them to leave me as their sole heir.”

  Alexander paused, looking at Mr Clarkson as he reached for a second biscuit. He felt hungry now he had started to eat.

  “I had no idea about the room, or what you may find in the house when you left here yesterday with that sealed letter,” Mr Clarkson began. “I have no doubt it has been rather emotional for you. Indeed it was only at the start of last week that you lost your parents in any event. I appreciate that we will need to address certain elements of paperwork and, as I explained, the first of those is probably to consider the value of the house. There will also be the matter of the funeral to arrange. Your parents, being very thorough, had made certain requests in that regard, and in fact our mutual friend, Brian, features in this discussion again!”

  Mr Clarkson quickly turned over a few pages in his open file and Alexander saw another letter in his father’s handwriting. “I shall not read the whole thing, and I will of course send you a copy, but in essence your parents wanted to be cremated, and then have their ashes laid to rest beside your sister at Godfrey St John. The letter confirms that they have made enquiries of Brian, to check that this would be possible.” Mr Clarkson looked up from the file and took his glasses off; he had previously popped them on the end of his nose to quickly scan through the letter.

  “I assume you can point me in the direction of a local funeral business?” Alexander asked. “I am sorry, I don’t wish to treat you as a free Google service on contacts and businesses, but being based some way away, it would help to have confidence with people I can trust.”

  “Of course. I understand. And, please, it will be a pleasure to help. I will in the first instance contact Brian, and I am sure he can liaise with a funeral parlour and indeed the crematorium, which is here in Exeter. In terms of then addressing the will itself, liquidating the assets of the estate etc. have you decided on what you would like to do about the actual contents of your parents’ home? I am sure there will be personal items and the like…” Mr Clarkson’s voice trailed off as he saw Alexander start to straighten up in his chair, as though he were going to say something.

  “Mr Clarkson, Peter, I am sure there will be the ubiquitous forms to be completed and protocol to be followed. I wish everything done properly and professionally, and whatever is due to go in tax needs to be paid. After that, however, I wish to have everything in the house sold. I assume some house clearance company can be instructed. I would like the funeral paid for from the estate, and anyone who attends can enjoy a drink in the local pub in the village at the end. What remains, and I assume that will be considerable amount, I wish it all given to the local church. I will not inherit a penny, thank you. I will take my watch as my delayed 21st birthday present.”

  Mr Clarkson looked across the table. Alexander had explained everything very eloquently and calmly, and had just told him he was walking away from an inheritance of a couple of million pounds.

  “I don’t know what to say, I’m afraid. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to talk this over with your wife and family? After all, you have had a very trying 24 hours and I am sure you could do with a good night’s sleep. There is plenty of time to address such matters; probate, after all, is rather like buying a house, with the conveyancing process. You may want everything dealt with quickly but in fact it always takes longer than one would expect.”

  “Peter, I appreciate you mean well and I have no wish to repeat my rudeness of yesterday but I have not reached the decision lightly. I know my parents loved me, that is all I have ever wanted from them. I have that now. I have their recognition of my family; they thought about them whilst they were all growing up. I don’t need their money. Sure, it would make a difference to my life, but somehow it would be better spent on the church where they will be at rest with my sister. I understand from my evening last night that the money will be put to very good and indeed urgent use. Perhaps we should call it a way of thanking Brian for his time last night, and for helping me to understand my parents. I have come to terms with their approach of the last 25 years and I am happy now.”

  Alexander’s voice began to break slightly as he finished speaking. “In a funny way I wonder if they knew I would not want their money and that is why they said in their will that their wishes would stand no matter what I thought after I had visited the house and seen the presents. Whatever I thought of them, they wanted to recognise me with their wealth. I don’t need that now. I have all the recognition I need, having seen the Gift Room.” Alexander felt more composed as he finished his explanation to Mr Clarkson, who looked down at the file in front of him and closed it.

  “Alexander, I don’t want this to sound patronising at all, although I fear it may… However, I think it is important that it is said…” He paused. “I think your parents would be immensely proud of the decision you have reached. Perhaps in a way their approach with you over the last couple of decades has moulded you into the fine person that you obviously are. In fact it probably explains the close bond, and the obviously fierce, protective love in which you hold your own dear family so close. I fear we may start to stray away from the law and into sociology if we are not too careful, so I will leave my thoughts at that.”

  “Thank you Peter. I have to say I have found the last 24 hours very emotional at times, but throughout this I have had the unconditional support of my lovely wife at the end of the telephone and now I understand my parents’ approach, I feel that their money and wealth could somehow detract from the family life that I hold so dear. My parents, for whatever reason, chose not to be a direct part of that; however, that was their choice and right. It did not stop them from thinking about me and my family, and in that way I now have their recognition. That is what I have inherited. It is far more valuable to me than their money.”

  Mr Clarkson smiled. “This work is very odd sometimes. I often sit opposite people who find that they have inherited a small house and some savings and that is life changing for them. For you I feel that by inheriting your parents’ estate and then coming to this decision it is also life changing… however from a completely different perspective.”

  “I assume you can help with whatever necessary paperwork will be involved?” Alexander asked.

  “Yes, yes, of course. And I assume you will be speaking with Brian directly in connection with the whole matter?” Mr Clarkson replied.

  Alexander paused. “No, I don’t think I will. I would like it if you would please have that dialogue. To be honest Peter after I leave you this morning I may not be returning to Devon for some time. In fact I have not yet determined if I will be attending the funeral. You see, I feel I have said my personal goodbyes both in the church this morning and indeed by having this conversation with you. I shall talk it over with my family tonight, but I suspect this will be the last time we meet. If we can deal with everything else remotely, that would be great.”

  “Alexander, of course I would be happy to carry out your wishes as you instruct and will make contact with Brian etc. etc.” Mr Clarkson appeared to understand the approach that Alexander had adopted.

  “I should be quite clear, I have no wish for there to be any fuss over the donation to the church,” Alexander added. “I appreciate that formally everything must be recorded and addressed properly, but I would like the assumption in the village to be that my parents simply left their
estate to the church, which is in effect what will have happened. I think a new bench in the churchyard would also be nice, so that when I do come down to visit - which I will do in time - I can sit down comfortably for a chat with my sister - and perhaps God, if He is in!” Alexander smiled.

  “Of course, Alexander, I have an excellent and indeed very long-standing relationship with Brian and I am sure we can see to it that your wishes are followed. Again, I am going to sound rather patronising, but please, I don’t mean to, you really are a remarkable man.”

  “Thank you so much for your help in addressing all of these matters. I have every confidence things will work out OK. Don’t be surprised Peter if this is the last time we meet.” Alexander stood up and extended his hand across the table. Mr Clarkson took it firmly and warmly and shook his hand.

  “Thank you for the instructions, Alexander, and have a safe trip back to your wife and family. It has been a pleasure meeting you.” Mr Clarkson showed him to the door and walked with Alexander across the foyer of the office building to the sliding, glass doors that automatically opened as they approached.